Page 133 of Enzo

Enzo stepped in from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel, his hair tousled and eyes soft with gentle love. He’d kept his word and took over the cooking in our family. Before our daughter was born, he’d cook in boxers and we’d laugh. These days, he was appropriately dressed and sometimes still tried to teach me and Rosalia a thing or two in the kitchen. She was a better pupil than I would ever be.

Sitting beside me, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face. “You look like you’re miles away.”

I smiled and nodded toward the photo. “Remember that day?”

He chuckled, squeezing my hand. “How could I forget? It was a good day.”

“It was. Gosh, I can’t believe it was eight years ago that she—” My voice cracked. He cupped my cheek, offering comfort, and I leaned into it.

“Amara was happy that day,” he rasped, affected by the emotions. “We were too.”

“We were. Still are.”

He grinned. “More so.”

My gaze softened as I returned to look at the frame.

“I miss her lately,” I whispered. “I can picture her smile like it was yesterday. Every time I look at it, it’s like she’s still here with us—sharing that moment, that joy, and ready for the next thing.”

He pulled me closer. “She is here with us. I can see her light in that photo, right there beside ours.”

I nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped around mine. “I think she’d be so proud of everything we’ve built. And she would have doted on Rosalia. Probably spoiled her rotten.”

Our daughter giggled again, breaking the silence, and he smiled, eyes glistening.

“Do you think our daughter will have her own Milan moment someday? Something she’ll look back on and treasure forever?”

“I hope so,” I breathed. “Something magical. Something that fills her with light and love. And maybe every time she sees this photo, she’ll feel the love that surrounds her—both past and present. Here and gone.”

He smiled, his thumb stroking my knuckles. “We have a lot to be thankful for. We’re living our dream, and you’re practicing oncology at the hospital we dedicated to Amara. Life has turned out to be amazing.”

“Only thanks to you,” I murmured softly.

“No, thanks to us. You and I… We’re a team.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. “Or maybe it’s because of her.”

His arms tightened around me. “It was a joint effort. You’ve paid your dues.”

“And so have you,” I allowed.

“We’ve earned this, Pen,” he said, nodding toward our daughter playing on the floor. “We have to cherish it. We were given the greatest gift of all.”

I lifted my face to his, eyes shimmering with unshed tears of joy. “We made it through the hardest parts, and now?—”

He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine. “And now we have our happily ever after. This… You are my home,mia anima.”

I closed my eyes, the quiet settling over us like a warm embrace, before I tilted my face up. Our lips met, slow and tender at first, then deepening. There was a shared promise in that kiss, full of love, hope, and everything we’d fought for.

When we finally parted, he smiled, content and totally at ease. “We made it.”

And we had. Together.

THE END